


I Came Here To Make You Dance Tonight

by meerkat2020



Series: Violet Trevelyan (Modern AU) [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Humor, Light Angst, Mild Language, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meerkat2020/pseuds/meerkat2020
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first time Cullen saw Violet, she was dancing on Dorian’s coffee table."</p><p>The story of how two really stupid, but really adorable, dorks meet and fall in love (but pretend they're totally not into each other; not at all).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Party

The first time Cullen saw Violet, she was dancing on Dorian’s coffee table.

Clad in a santa hat wrapped in Christmas lights, a hideous holiday sweater hanging off one shoulder, and skin-tight leather pants, she twisted with the other dancers. In her hand was a Solo cup of eggnog, most likely spiked, if Cullen knew anything about Dorian’s friends.

People were dancing in the living room, but some were gathered around Violet, cheering her on. Cullen found himself watching her from the edge of the throng, but he wasn’t the only one. After all, what was a Christmas party without someone dancing on the table?

Dorian sauntered over, giving Cullen a knowing smirk. “Enjoying the show?” he asked, gesturing to Violet with his glass of wine.

Cullen glanced at his friend, and when he looked back at the woman, he almost snorted his soda. “Is she--is she doing the Harlem Shake to...I Want To Rock You Hard This Christmas?”

Dorian chuckled, a smirk on his face as he watched Violet. “Dear Violet was never the best dancer. But she seems to be having a good time, and she’s drunk enough that she won’t remember twerking in front of dozens of strangers.”

“You said her name was Violet?” Cullen asked curiously.

“I did,” Dorian agreed, a mischievous grin on his face. “Go--talk to her, Rutherford. She’s easy to get along with.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, eyebrows rising. “I don’t know, Dorian, she’s having a good time; I don’t want to intrude.”

Dorian made an exasperated noise. “She could have an even better time if some gorgeous engineering major swept her off her feet.” With a rather forceful shove that sent Cullen stumbling to the coffee table, Dorian commanded, “Go talk to her!”

Cullen stopped just short of Violet, but she saw him and grinned. With a twinkle in her eyes, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the coffee table. She pulled him closer and twirled him around a few times. Cullen had never been one for dancing, despite being told many times that he had the aptitude for it. Now, he wished he’d at least dabbled in it. He was far too sober to know what to do. He glanced over to where Dorian should’ve been, but saw him in the corner, chatting up Bull. Great.

Still holding his hands, Violet slid from the table with more grace than her current inebriated state warranted, dragging Cullen with her.Still, she lost her balance and Cullen kept her from tumbling to the floor, strong arms wrapping around her waist. She turned in his arms and grinned at him, green eyes sparkly. His brain short-circuited for a minute at that dazzling smile that he was pretty sure must’ve been illegal in a few states. He didn’t put up a fight when Violet moved his arms and retook his hand, leading him into the kitchen.

Violet was panting as she leaned against the counter, watching Cullen curiously. “Nice moves,” she smirked, rolling her sleeves up. “Two left feet?”

Cullen smiled sheepishly. “Something like that.” He sipped his soda, then offered the Solo cup to her. “Thirsty?”

“Spiked?” she asked, taking it and peering at the contents. He shook his head and she shrugged, gulping from it and draining it, suppressing a burp. She crushed the cup and tossed it at a black garbage bag.”Don’t drink?” she asked. “Or hit your limit already?” She was grinning again, words slurring slightly.

Cullen shook his head. “I don’t drink.”

Violet nodded sagely, humming quietly, even as she opened a nearby cooler and pulled a can of beer from it. She popped the tab and took a deep gulp from it. “Good,” she murmured, sounding like she was thinking aloud. She took another long swig. “I need someone to make sure I get home okay. You’re Dorian’s friend, right? I trust you. Oh! By the way, I’m Violet.”

“Cullen,” he replied, sticking his hand out.

Violet shook his hand, a slow, crooked smile spreading drunkenly over her lips. “I know,” she told him. “We had Art History together last year. I...noticed you.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and not from drinking. She quickly finished her drink.

Now that he thought of it, of course he remembered her. Pixie-cut bleached hair, sparkling green eyes, dimpled cheeks. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d also been in a musical at the university. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, smiling, even though he wasn’t sure if it really was.

Violet beamed back, cheek dimpling, as she shifted closer, almost subconsciously. Cullen coughed. Violet stiffened, lips slightly parted. Cullen was wondering what was wrong with her, when she grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the living room, a grin breaking out across her face. “I love this song!” she trilled.

She pulled him into a throng of dancers, near speakers blaring a song Cullen hadn’t heard in years. He couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. Violet pressed her back against his chest, and he had to fight the urge to touch her, to caress her, to put his hands on her hips and draw her closer.

When the song ended, Cullen made a beeline off the dance floor, embarrassed by his thoughts. Unbidden, Violet followed him, grinning and popping open another can of cheap beer. Where had she gotten that? She’d just been dancing!

“You need to loosen up,” she declared, leaning on him. Cullen was very aware of the press of her thigh between his legs, and he also remembered that she was known to have slept with dozens of people. Her type was: 1) attractive, 2) attractive, 3) attractive. “Dancing is fun. Try it sometime.”

“I’m good,” Cullen replied, subtly shifting away from her, and Violet smiled slightly. “I like watching you dance.”

Violet reached up and pinched his cheek. “You sweet-talker, you. Keep it up and you might get into my pants.”

Cullen spluttered. Violet giggled and led him back into the kitchen, away from the pounding music. She fished a can of Coke out of the cooler and handed it to Cullen. Her easy, dopey smile slid off her face as Cullen accepted it, but her eyes were focused somewhere passed his shoulder. Cullen started to look to see what was behind him, but Violet grabbed him to stop him. She had a stormy look on her face. Cullen subtly glanced to the side and saw in his peripheral a group of guys playing beer pong on the kitchen table. One of them kept stealing glances at Violet and Cullen, an equally sour expression on his face.

“Boyfriend?” Cullen guessed.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Violet corrected darkly, hand still gripping the arm of Cullen’s sweater. Then she perked up suddenly. She giggled, a little drunkenly, then attempted to compose herself before speaking. “I’ve got a great idea, Cully-Wully. It’ll piss that fucking asshole right off.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. Cully-Wully? “I’m listening,” he said. “No promises, though.”

Violet grinned. “Lovely.” Then she lowered her voice in a way that was supposed to be conspiratorially. It was more of an exaggerated stage whisper, and Cullen had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. She continued, pressing closer, pushing back her short bangs. Her breath, sour from alcohol, fanned across his face as she breathed. “So, I’m thinking--douchebag here loved his damn car more than me, right? So let’s trash his fucking car!” She grinned wickedly at him.

“Absolutely not!” Cullen shot, trying not to look that shocked by Violet’s expression.

“Oh, come on,” Violet cajoled. She punched his shoulder playfully. “We won’t do any permanent damage. Just, like, egg it, or something. A rinse in the carwash will set it right, but I’ll still feel great. And it’ll inconvenience that asshole.”

Cullen didn’t look convinced. Violet folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “Come on, Cully. Don’t tell me you’ve never been fucking pissed off at an ex that broke your fucking heart. This is your chance to get all that anger out. Pretend it’s their car, too. The universal jilted-lovers’ car.”

Cullen sighed. She made puppy-eyes at him and he felt his resolve melting. He rubbed the back of his neck absently. “Fine. But if anything happens, I’m throwing you under the bus.”

“Excellent!” Violet replied with a devilish grin. She took Cullen by the hand again and headed out the backdoor with him, casting a glance back into the house to make sure her ex was watching. “There’s a 7-Eleven down the street. They got eggs. Open twenty-four-seven, too.”

Cullen sighed in defeat, following her around the house and back onto the street, ignoring the rutting couples. “Very well.”

Violet beamed at him and Cullen tried to ignore how it made him feel. It was cold outside, and neither of them had their coats on. The chill in the air made Violet shiver, and Cullen wrapped an arm around her shoulder chivalrously. She snuggled closer to him, enjoying the body heat.

They headed down the sidewalk lined with cars there for the party, Violet breaking away from Cullen occasionally to weave along the curb, balancing carefully. For someone who was drunk, she had a remarkable grasp of her surroundings. Cullen wondered which car was her ex’s. It had to be nice, if he would pay more attention to it than to Violet. Violet did not seem like someone who was easy to ignore.

“Land ho!” Violet cried, pointing to the brightly illuminated sign glowing at the end of the block. She ran ahead a few paces, turning to look at Cullen, cocking her hip impatiently. “C’mon, old man! I don’t got all night!”

Cullen found himself desperate for something to say to make Violet smile again, maybe laugh. “Somebody’s a little eager.”

Violet smirked. “Caleb’s had this coming a long time now. Now, come on, slowpoke!” She danced away from him, prancing into the brightly lit store, Cullen only a few steps behind.

They headed past the clerk sitting at the counter, on their phone. Violet stopped at the back wall, which was lined with refrigerators. She bit her lips as she eyed the beer section.

“The drinks at Dorian’s house sucked,” she moped. “He saves the good stuff for himself and close friends.” She dragged her finger down the wall of glass doors, stopping at a stack of egg cartons. She pouted a little, opening the door and checking each box.

“We want the eggs closest to expiring,” she explained to Cullen. “Nastier for Caleb to deal with.” She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Aha!” She grabbed a carton of eggs, the date reading nearly a week ago. “C’mon, Mister-Mister. The night is still young.”

Cullen followed her to the front counter, placing their purchase on it. He still couldn’t quite believe what he was getting involved in. Violet was drunk, and probably needed to be brought home immediately. And didn’t someone mention that she had an arrest record?

Violet patted her pants as the bored-looking cashier rang them up. She grumbled and looked up at Cullen apologetically. “I didn’t bring my wallet with me,” she said, sounding genuinely sorry. “I know it’s rude of me to ask, but could you--”

Before she could finish, Cullen was already fishing out his leather wallet from his pocket. He handed the woman behind the cashier his card and she swiped it, then handed it back with a short receipt. they left the convenience store, heading back into the chilly night, Violet’s arm looped through Cullen’s as she held the bag.

They strolled back down the street. Violet was humming something he vaguely recognized. They passed the party house, where a few guys were on the porch, watching them pass. It was too dark to see who they were.

At the other end of the block, Violet paused, plastic bag of eggs swinging idly. She had yet another thunderous look on her face. Cullen frowned. If her ex made her so angry, why would she continue to antagonize over him? Couldn’t she just cut herself off from him?

“This is his car,” she announced, pointing to a very well-groomed black ‘69 Camaro. Cullen immediately stiffened.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head adamantly. “Give me the eggs, I’m taking you home.”

“Aw, Cully-Wully,” she whined, grabbing his arm and pressing against him. He steeled himself; he would not be swayed by the feel of her breasts against his chest. “We don’t permanently damage it, pinky-promise!”

“Violet, this car is a treasure, a classic,” Cullen told her, trying to figure out a way to explain to her how sacred it was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as Violet made an exasperated noise. He opened his eyes again and gazed at the Chevy Camaro, then at Violet, who was scowling with tears in her eyes.

“Cullen, he doesn’t deserve that damn car,” Violet growled, jabbing a finger at it. “That rat bastard cheated on me in this car.”

After a moment, Cullen sighed, rubbing his temples. He knew how that felt. “Alright. Fine. Go for it. Disclaimer: I won’t back you up if we get caught.”

Violet giggled. “I’m okay with that. I’m very persuasive.” She rotated her hips with her words and then popped open the carton of eggs. With a wicked grin, she picked out an egg and swung her arm, the egg flying in an arc towards the car. It splattered against the roof, yolk flying everywhere.

“Woo!” Violet cheered, pitching another egg at the trunk, then another at the driver’s door. Her smiled widened, her laughter bubbling out like a gushing stream. It was infection; Cullen started laughing, too, cheering Violet on despite his better thoughts.

“Nice shot!” he said when she hit the side mirror, knocking it slightly off-kilter, not registering the sound of nearby sirens getting louder.

Violet forced an egg into his hand. “Come on, Cully! Do it! This fucking car belongs to the girl who broke your heart! Or, you know, the guy. Let them know what you fucking think of them!”

With a shrug, Cullen chucked the egg at the car, a little harder than necessary. He hit the windshield square in the center, and the sound of cracking glass rent the air, following by a beeping alarm.

Violet dropped the carton of eggs and they splattered over her boots, clapping her hands over her mouth.”Oh, shit!” she shouted, but she was grinning. Cullen looked shell-shocked, but Violet’s snorting giggles roused him into breathless laughter. He’s still not sure why they stood there guffawing for a good five minutes while lights turned on up and down the street. They only came back to earth when they heard footsteps running toward them from the direction of the party, punctuating the sound of approaching sirens.

“Shit,” Violet muttered. “It’s Caleb and his friends.”

“You fucking psycho bitch!” one of them, Caleb, shouted. “I called the cops!”

“Fuck you, Caleb, and your fat, hairy ass!” Violet hollered back. Then she grabbed Cullen’s hand and bolted down the street, ducking into someone’s backyard. He followed her obediently, a stupid, dopey grin across his face. In that moment, as he watched the back of her head as the sprinted across the backyard, he thought he might be in love.

Violet started to climb the fence, as if she did this every Friday night. Cullen gave her a boost and couldn’t help but ogle the perfect curve of her ass, and the tattoo half-revealed on the small of her back. So, the rumors were true. He wondered what other things people said about her were true…

Cullen pulled himself up after her easily, hopping onto the other side. They continued like this, running through backyards and hopping fences until they could no longer hear the sirens. They stopped by the corner of a dark street corner, panting, a sloppy grin on Violet’s face. They were quiet for a few minutes in the cool night air.

“Shit, did you leave your car there?” Violet asked worriedly.

Cullen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

Violet sighed in relief. “Okay. I hope they don’t figure out which car is yours, otherwise, you may find it with worse than a few rotten eggs splattered on it.”

This was indeed worrying to Cullen, but he waved it off for Violet’s sake. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure. At least we’re safe.”

Violet snorted. “Yeah. I can’t believe he actually fucking called the cops. What a twat.”

Cullen looked around, noting the junction of the streets. “So, where are you going from here?” he asked.

Violet looked around, too. “I, uh...I don’t know. The dorm’s closed for the holiday. I’m crashing with a friend, but he lives on the other side of town. I don’t want to call him to come pick me up…” Cullen got the impression that under that cool exterior, she was actually pretty nervous. He found himself wanting to help.

“Well, my sister lives nearby,” he offered, even though a part of him told him to just dump Violet’s ass there at the corner and head back to the party to drive home. “I’ll call her and see if she’s awake. She’s a night owl, so probably…” He dug his phone out, checking the time. It was a quarter to one. He dialed her phone number anyway, praying she answered.

“Hello?” a surprisingly alert voice for the hour answered. “Cullen? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mia, hi,” Cullen said. “Everything’s fine. I just have a slight request. A friend and I need a place to crash for the night.”

“What? Yeah, sure, Cullen,” Mia agreed. Violet was looking at Cullen and he nodded to her with a smile. “I’m up, in the kitchen. You know where the spare key is. I’ll be waiting.”

“Alright, thanks, Mia,” he said, hanging up. He put his phone away and jerked his head to the next street. “C’mon, this way, Violet.”

“Lead the way, Commander Cully,” Violet purred, taking Cullen’s hand in her own, fingers cold. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand, which was dry and cracked. He pulled her beside him as they hurried down dark side streets, not taking any shortcuts through backyards. Violet noticed that the houses got nicer and nicer as they travelled. Fresh coats of paint; neat, lush lawns with nauseating lawn ornaments; SUVs with bumper stickers like “I Love My (insert dog breed here)!” and sticker figure families.

Cullen pulled Violet up the walk of a white house with a purple door and a gleaming, brass knocker. He let go of Violet’s hand and knelt down beside the flower bed, reaching among the dead blooms. When he straightened, he held a polka-dotted key. He unlocked the front door and opened it slowly. The hinges did not squeak. Inside, it was ark, but Violet had a sense that it was nicely furnished and impeccably clean. There was a single light on, at the back of the house in the kitchen. Cullen headed toward it, Violet sticking close to Cullen, holding hands again.

There was a woman who looked uncannily like Cullen, sitting at the circular kitchen table, blond hair piled in a messy bun atop her head. Before here were stacks of papers, letters, bills, and envelopes, scattered haphazardly, seemingly with no rhythm or rhyme. She glanced up, eyes wide as she saw the newcomers who walked into her house at such an ungodly time of night. Her eyes softened, though, when she saw Cullen.

“Cullen,” she said sounding relived. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Mia,” Cullen assured her. “We just need a place to crash.”

Mia’s eyes slid past Cullen to Violet, who was half-hidden behind Cullen. She stepped forward, offering a polite smile.

“Er, Mia, this is my friend Violet,” Cullen introduced, dropping Violet’s hand. “Violet, this is my sister Mia.”

“Nice to meet you, Mia,” Violet said courteously.

“You, too,” Mia said, smiling but still looking confused. Then she stood up. She wore rumpled pajamas: a T-shirt and a pair of plaid sweatpants, with a robe tossed over it. “Um, are you two hungry? Did you eat? There’s leftovers in the fridge; help yourselves. Just be quiet; the kids are sleeping. I’ll go get the guest room ready for you two.”

“Uh, Mia,” Cullen began hastily as Violet peered in the fridge. “We’re not--I’ll take the couch.”

Mia glanced at him, then at Violet, and gave him a knowing look. “Oh. Right. Sure, Cullen.”

Cullen groaned at the small smile on her face. She laughed and headed upstairs quietly, footsteps soft on the carpeted stairs.

Violet turned to Cullen with a rakish grin. “Oh, Cully-Wully, you sure know how to take the thrill out of running from the cops. It’s supposed to end with a bang--whether it’s the police shoving you against the cop car as they cuff you, or a handsome blond plowing balls-deep into you--”

Cullen spluttered, cheeks reddening. He fished around for a topic change. “Uh--hungry?” He reached past Violet and took out a container of pasta and sauce from the fridge, popping it into the microwave.

Violet’s smile widened and she crossed over to him, leaning against the counter, a little too close for comfort. Cullen turned away slightly, trying to ignore Violet’s off-key humming at his elbow. He tried not to think of how her small hand felt in his, clammy and sweaty but still warm. He missed it, he realized like a splash of cold water in his face. He shook away the thought as he pulled out the container from the beeping microwave. He handed it to Violet and rooted around in a drawer for a fork, passing it to Violet.

“You’re not eating?” Violet asked, taking a bite of the fettuccine alfredo. “There’s enough for two.” There wasn’t really, but she offered her fork to Cullen anyway. His stomach growled, betraying the refusal on his lips. “Eat, Cully,” she commanded.

Cullen took the fork from her, not willing to eat straight from her hand. “Let’s sit down, at least,” he said, pulling out a chair for himself. Violet sat next to him, her foot brushing his. Very purposely, it seemed. Cullen took a bite of the pasta and handed the fork back to Violet. She watched him, her green eyes half-lidded. Was she tired? Or...was she thinking about him? Cullen wanted to know, but he also didn’t want to. He shook the thought from his mind.

“You’ve got a scar on your lip,” Violet noted with a sharp nod toward it. She smiled. “Is there a story behind it?”

Cullen swallowed slowly. “Skateboard accident when I was a teenager,” he bluffed.

Violet shifted. “You’re lying,” she said, sing-song. “But another time, then, perhaps.”

They finished down the pasta quickly between the two of them, and washed it down with orange juice, even though Violet wanted another beer, or wine at the very least. She’d already decided before entering the house that Cullen’s sister’s family did not consume anything harder. However, Cullen would not let her drink anything that contained even a hint of alcohol.

Violet walked around the kitchen and living room, her attention mostly caught by the photographs of the family that lived there. Cullen, a good tens years younger, standing with his sister Mia (also younger) and two other blond people with similar features, a boy and a girl. A big, brown-and-white dog sat in front of them, tongue lolling out of its mouth like it was grinning. A wedding picture of Mia and a brown-haired man, smiles blinding, a bouquet clutched in both of their hands. Dozens of pictures of Cullen and his siblings with their parents, and two other blond children who had similar features to the brown-haired man in Mia’s wedding photo. In a place of honor on the mantle over the fireplace sat a modest photograph of two people, a man and a woman. Violet bit her lip when she placed them for whom she’d assumed were Cullen’s parents.

Violet jumped when she noticed Cullen standing just behind her, the heat coming off his body intoxicating. Maker, he was quiet. Or maybe she was too inebriated to notice his footsteps. Her one talent, if she had any, was acting more sober than she really was. She turned toward him and smiled sheepishly. Oh, Andraste’s tits, he was too close. She looked up at Cullen, her cheeks too warm. Bolstered by her drunken confidence, she pointed upward at the ceiling.

“Mistletoe,” she murmured, and with that single word, the air between them was charged.

Violet met his tawny eyes, black in the semi-darkness, something unreadable in them. She felt immobilized in his gaze, her heart beating faster and faster. Her breath caught when his hand touched her cheek, cool on her hot skin. Her eyes fluttered shut, and chapped lips brushed hers, barely a touch, and then he started to move away, even though Violet could feel the carnal desire in his blood. Violet leaned closer, finding his lips with hers and pulling into a real kiss.

She slid a hand to his cheek, moving it to the back of his neck, fingers grasping his golden locks, tugging him closer. Cullen was frozen, hands hovering over Violet’s hips, but when Violet licked his lips, he parted his obligingly. Her tongue flicked against his scar, then slid into his mouth. Cullen gasped and moaned as something cold and smooth touched his tongue and clacked metallically against his teeth. Maker’s breath, she had a tongue piercing.

Violet pressed closer to Cullen, chest to chest, hip to hip. Cullen’s hands tightened as she raked her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer still. Violet started to nibble on his lip and he moaned into her mouth, hand shifting to grab her ass.

“Ahem,” a voice said from behind Cullen, jolting him back to the world. He and Violet sprang apart, panting slightly, cheeks flushed. Mia stood with her arms crossed, looking at them and appearing rather amused, an eyebrow cocked and a smirk on her face.

“The extra bedroom is ready,” Mia told them pointedly. “Just a reminder: my children are sleeping. I’d like them to remain that way.”

Violet giggled, but Cullen’s cheeks darkened as he fought a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Well, goodnight, then, Violet.”

Violet rose to her tippy toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over his scar. “Goodnight, Cully.” Then she headed to the stairs, and Mia told her, “Second door on the right!” before the two siblings were alone. Then Mia zeroed in on Cullen.

“So. Just friends, right?” she asked. “Cully?”

Cullen sighed in exasperation. “Yes, just friends.”

Mia grinned. “Mhm. Just friends who make-out passionately?” She laughed at Cullen’s expression. “She’s pretty. And different from your previous girlfriends. She looks fun, and...good. So. How long have you known each other?”

Cullen thought for a moment. “About...oh, two and a half hours? Maybe?”

Mia choked on her spit, brown eyes widening in shock. “Two and a half hours! Are you serious? Because the way she had her tongue down your throat--”

Cullen sighed, rubbing his temples. “We met at Dorian’s Christmas party tonight.”

“That’s so unlike you,” Mia mused. “But maybe it’s a good thing.” Then she headed to a linen closet near the kitchen and handed him a blanket. “Goodnight...Cully.”

“I’ll never be able to live that down, will I?” he asked, kicking his shoes off and settling on the couch.

Mia chuckled as she headed back upstairs. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! End of Chapter One! Of my first work on AO3! Yay. Sorry that it's kindaaaa long, I think. Oh well. I tried to find a good ending bit earlier, make it three chapters, but the muses said nah son.
> 
> So, a bit about certain things regarding this particular fic: 1. I kind of mashed religions, if you couldn't tell. So while they'll call God "Maker" because I can't see them calling him anything else, Jesus is a thing, since Christmas is a thing. Sometimes they'll say God. Or Jesus, or whatever. As of right now, I'm not sure how other religions stand in this. Whatever. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. 2. My tiny baby Violet. So tiny. So small. So precious. I hope you like her so far. She's an interesting character for me to write, but also kind of hard. 3. This is sort of just a good introduction to my baby, before I post anything regarding the DAI rewrite I have planned, heehhehe. There will be more vignettes and drabbles and full-blown fics about Violet and Cullen, maybe some other relationships when I get to those.
> 
> Un-Beta'd, for now, though I do my best to edit and correct my work. Let me know if there's anything to correct (even if it's just a misplaced comma).
> 
> Also the song that Violet freaks out over and drags Cullen back into the living room to dance with him is Guilty Pleasure by Cobra Starship. Because that song is literally always perfect ok.
> 
> ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR READING. It means a lot! Kudos and Comments are very much welcomed!


	2. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet wakes up the next morning, and, boy, is Cullen in for a storm.

Violet woke with a pounding in her head. Her mouth tasted like a public restroom. A shaft of light fell upon her eyes from the lace-covered window on the other side of the room. She rolled over, groaning. Everything spun as she forced her eyes open, despite her desire to pull the covers over her head and sleep for a thousand years. She looked around the room blearily, everything swimming into focus slowly.

She had no idea where she was. Which was not an unusual occurrence.

The room was modest but comfortably furnished. The bed was warm and had so many blankets. The walls were beige and decorated with tasteful artwork. There was a closet and a dresser with a mirror, which, upon closer inspection, were both empty. The room reminded her of her aunt’s guest bedroom. She scrunched her nose, standing in the middle of the room, wearing only her sweater and panties. Her pants were on the floor, legs inside out, along with her socks and shoes.

Violet headed out of the room, memory slinking back. There were four more doors in the hall, which was shaped like a capital ‘L’. She headed down the carpeted steps, creaking gently underfoot. She looked at the photos lining the wall of the staircase that she hadn’t noticed last night. They all featured the same smiling blond people and a brown-haired man (Mia’s husband, if Violet’s suspicion was right). Occasionally, there was extended family or friends in the pictures, too.

At the foot of the stairs, Violet entered the living room. A TV mounted on the wall was on some kids’ channel, and two small blond kids were sitting on the floor in front of it, enraptured, eating bowls of cereal and milk. They glanced at Violet as she paused behind them.

“You’re Uncle Cullen’s girlfriend, right?” the girl, the older one, asked. Her golden hair was cut in a short bob.

Violet froze for a moment. Right. She remembered the party from the previous night, meeting Cullen, but the details were still fuzzy. Had she thrown up on him? She hoped not. But...right! She’d egged Caleb’s car with Cullen...and they ran from the cops, and went to his sister’s house. Okay, that made more sense.

“Just his friend,” she corrected, shifting from foot to foot, aware that she was not very dressed, but the kids didn’t seem to mind. She felt kind of awkward under the brown-eyed scrutiny of these children.

“So,” she said, fishing for something she could talk about with kids.. “What do you got there?” She gestured to their bowls of cereal.

“Fruity Pebbles,” the boy answered around a milky mouthful of it.

Violet nodded. “Good stuff. Is, uh...is your Uncle Cullen still here?”

The girl nodded. “He’s in the kitchen with Mom and Dad.”

Violet smiled awkwardly and headed into the kitchen adjacent to the living room. At the oval table were Cullen and Mia, a chessboard between them. Their faces were screwed up in concentration. Violet stood hesitantly at the doorway, half in and half out, feeling very unsure of herself. Cullen looked up and noticed her, making to rise out of his chair.

“Get up and you forfeit,” Mia warned, finally moving a piece. Cullen lowered himself back into his chair with an apologetic glance at Violet.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she insisted, feeling massively out of place among this family that...was acting normally. Lovingly. She shifted, averting her eyes to where the smell of bacon wafted toward her. Standing at the stove was Mia’s husband. He whistled as he cooked, offering Violet a welcoming smile. She smiled back hesitantly.

Violet waited as Mia and Cullen went back and forth for the next several minutes, quipping snarkily at each other. Violet watched them, even though she’d never understood chess very well. Then Cullen moved his bishop and smirked at his sister.

“Checkmate,” he declared, leaning back in his chair smugly.

Mia nodded her head in appreciation. “Not bad. Maybe next time I won’t go so easy on you.”

Cullen sputtered. “What? No--I--You--!”

Mia snickered. “Rematch?”

Her husband interrupted. “Not unless you want breakfast.” He carried a plate of bacon to the table, still sizzling with hot butter. Mia and Cullen put away the chessboard as Mia’s husband brought a plate of hashed browns and a bowl of fruit to the table, along with jugs of milk and orange juice.

Cullen sat down at the table as Mia called the kids in. Violet stood to the sidelines, watching the five of them sit together, like a normal family where the parents loved their kids, and the kids loved each other and their parents, and the parents loved each other, too, and they got along and smiled and there weren’t full-blown fights over there being only a single serving of orange juice left, and no one was storming out and no one was breaking out scotch at only ten o’clock in the morning.

“I--” Violet’s throat felt sticky, closed. She cleared her throat, suddenly scared she was going to start crying. “I should go. Thank you for letting me stay here last night.” She started to head back for the stairs to get dressed but Cullen leapt to his feet to stop her.

“There’s plenty of food for everyone,” he said as he grabbed her wrist. “Stay?”

Violet felt her resolve melting as she looked into Cullen’s earnest brown eyes. Maker’s breath, no one should be allowed to be that beautiful and open and honest. Not around Violet, at least. She needed a good few layers of lies and half-truths in a relationship. That way, she could always justify leaving them and breaking their hearts and never looking back.

She nodded numbly and sat down next to Cullen at the table. He served her some hashed browns and fruit, a piece of bacon, and poured her a glass of OJ. She smiled and forced herself to let go of any pre-conceived ideas of what a family was like, what a family meal was like, what breakfast on Saturday morning was like. This would be her starting point. For now, at least.

The kids’ names were Katherine and Daniel, Violet found out, and Mia’s husband was John. It was so apple pie, so fucking typical, but Violet forced herself to smile and be a blank slate.

After breakfast, Violet helped clear the table, not as acutely aware anymore that she was only wearing a sweater and underwear. She stood beside Mia, leaning on the counter, watching as Katherine and Daniel pulled Cullen with them into the living room to play a video game together.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Mia asked kindly.

Violet was slightly taken aback at the offer, then sniffed her arm, at which Mia laughed. Maker, she smelled like stale beer mixed with sweat, which was to be expected. Still, it was not pleasant. She grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t realize--”

“No, you’re fine!” Mia assured her, laughing. “But I figured you might want a shower before heading out.”

Violet shrugged. “Sure. Thanks. That’d...be great.”

Mia led her upstairs to one of the door in the hallway. She opened it, revealing a spacious bathroom, very much decorated for the taste of kids. Mia got a towel for her. “I’ll find some old clothes of mine for you to wear, alright?”

“You don’t have to,” Violet protested, feeling like a leech of a guest. It was getting harder and harder to not compare families.

“Nonsense,” Mia said with a wave of her hand, smiling softly. “I insist. You don’t want to wear your dirty clothes, do you?”

Violet was going to continue resisting, but Mia shut the bathroom door, leaving. Violet sighed and stripped off her sweater and panties, turning on the shower and stepping in. She felt...angry, but she didn’t want to be upset. But she couldn’t fucking help it. She was angry at Cullen for taking her to his sister’s house, and for not running from her, and for insisting that she eat with them instead of letting her running away like she always did. She was angry that his family was so kind and loving and fucking perfect, while hers was...not. Most of all, though, she was angry at herself for having danced with Cullen at the party and for going home with him and for kissing his stupid face like a desperate, wanton idiot.

She turned off the shower after scrubbing her skin raw and stepped out, wrapping herself in the provided towel. It was soft and fuzzy. Maker’s fucking prick, they even had nicer towels than her family. She scrubbed at her eyes with the towel, hating herself for thinking such a thing.

There was a knock at the door as she arranged her hair and readjusted the towel. She opened the door wide, standing there, dripping onto the bathmat. Cullen stood in the hall, a stack of clothing in his hand. A blush crept up his cheeks, and his eyes flitted up to her face from where he’d been ogling her. Violet cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Uh--clothing,” he said, sticking out his hands. “From Mia. For you.”

Violet let her towel drop as she took the proffered clothes. Cullen wrenched his wandering gaze to the ceiling, his entire face scarlet, coloring his neck and ears, too. She hoped bitterly that he enjoyed the show.

“Maker’s breath, Violet,” he breathed. “Have you no shame?”

“Nope,” she whispered as she stepped into Mia’s sweatpants and T-shirt without any underclothes. She smiled mirthlessly as she pressed past Cullen, sadistically pleased at the hitch in his breath as their chests brushed. She headed to the guest bedroom to gather her clothes. Cullen followed her.

“Is everything okay?” Cullen asked, waiting at the doorway, watching her with concern in his eyes.

“Fucking swell,” she spat, picking up her bra and her leather pants, adding them to the pile of her sweater and panties in her arms already.

Cullen sighed. “Really.” Violet nodded as she plucked up her socks. “Then why are you acting like this?”

“Shut up,” she growled, fighting tears that pricked her eyes painfully. She prayed he didn’t hear the catch in her voice, how thick her throat felt. She shoved her bare feet into her shoes and pushed past him, but he grabbed her arm. With a venomous scowl, Violet ripped away from Cullen and fled down the stairs. Cullen scrunched his brow and hurried after her.

“Violet,” he called when they reached the bottom. Cullen pressed his hand against the front door and Violet whirled on him angrily as she attempted to turn the knob. “Please,” he pleaded. “What’s gotten into you? I thought...I mean, you were perfectly fine earlier…”

Cullen’s confusion and determination just served to make Violet feel guiltier, thus angrier. “Why do you care?” she asked heatedly, eyes glistening.

Cullen looked even more bewildered at her unshed tears. “Did...Mia say something to you?”

Violet sighed angrily, dabbing at her eyes with a finger. “She didn’t.”

“Then why--?”

Violet huffed, interrupting him. “Why is your family so damn nice and perfect?” She winced, sounding more childish than she’d anticipated.

Cullen nearly laughed, but kept himself in check. Belittling Violet by turning her emotions into humor would not make her happy, he was sure. But he did look relieved, if a little confused. “That’s what you’re upset about? That my family is...nice?”

“Shut up,” violet muttered, bowing her head. “Now it sounds stupid and petty. But...Andraste’s tits, you wouldn’t understand.” She sighed in exasperation, avoiding Cullen’s eye.

Cullen’s hand landed on Violet’s upper arm, warm and not entirely unwanted. “I might. You think my family’s perfect? Everyone and everything has flaws. But some are smaller or better hidden than others.”

Violet finally looked up at him, green eyes wide and moist. Even though Violet’s family and Cullen’s family had literally nothing in common, she was touched that he was trying to understand, to take the edge off, to make her feel less like a screw-up--just by attempting to create a sense of camaraderie between them.

“I don’t know…” she said, voice muffled as heat crawled up her cheeks. “My family is just shit compared to yours.”

“Violet,” Cullen murmured, thumb brushing her arm. “You don’t need to be jealous. They all love you. And I...think you’re a great person. Last night was fun. You were fun. I haven’t had such a fun night in a long time. I...maybe...do you think we could--”

“Mistletoe,” Violet interrupted, pointing up, then snorting when Cullen looked up and saw nothing hanging from the doorjamb. She punched him in the shoulder playfully, a grin on her face. Cullen couldn’t help but smile.

“Come, let’s say goodbye,” Cullen suggested, wondering how he was going to finish his previous question. For now, though, as he watched Violet hug Mia and John goodbye, and ruffle the kids’ hair, he was okay with friends. Maybe that’s what Violet needed, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daaaaa! My first work on AO3--COMPLETE. Ahead of time. Even though it's only two chapters, haha. I just thought that this would be a good way to introduce them before I post my rewrite of DAI, with my lovely Inquisitor (which is very much WIP).
> 
> So I know it was sort of set up at the end for them to kiss again and then they fall in love, blah blah blah. But Violet is very much not like that, if you couldn't tell, and even though I had originally written them kissing, it didn't feel right. As you'll see later (and if you'll read my DAI rewrite, eventually), Violet is not very stable when it comes to romantic emotions and whatnot. Sad backstories (which vary from the rewrite to the AU). Or, well, not necessarily *sad* but not happy. But still, she's not exactly a person who can tackle an investment like emotional romance, rather than just carnal flings. Like, it's surprising enough that she's even in college.
> 
> Also I totally forgot to incorporate how Dorian and Violet know each other. Oops. I'll find a way to work it in. Hint: it ties back into the not-happy backstory. For the record, though, Dorian and Cullen know each other from high school. And I guess I should mention ages? They're not concrete (for now), and are liable to change as I see fit, but Cullen is 23, was in the army for 1.5 years straight out of high school, rehab for another two, and is technically a freshman or sophomore, I think (I have trouble with time, and calculating time-lapses and all that, please don't make me try), and has been in college the same amount of time as Violet, who just turned twenty-years-old in August. Dorian is about 22, 23. Maybe 21 if I can finagle it.
> 
> Right. Okay. Sorry. I go on tangents a lot. Sorry. I'll just write down all my headcanons instead of ranting about them in the notes. Still Un-Beta'd, btw.
> 
> So let me wrap this up: THANK YOU if you are reading this!! It means a lot to me that anyone would read my writing tbh. Kudos and Comments give me life. I really hope to share more with y'all in the future!


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